Decorated in tones of green, brown, and ochre, Professor Dawad’s office at Bracken Academy was as warm and welcoming as ever. Shelves lined with thick, hardbound volumes covered the walls and framed photographs of obscure, pre-emancipation Aeriel architecture took up all the remaining space. A large oak desk occupied the center of the office, behind which stood a sturdy armchair drowning in cushions.

The professor puttered around the chamber, pulling dusty files out from the bottoms of creaking drawers that hadn’t been opened in years.

Ruban was grateful the man even had analog records that could be accessed without asking the Academy for permission. He would have pulled Janak Nath’s records from the annals of the Academy one way or another, but he hadn’t been looking forward to a protracted battle of wills with the Bracken administration. Simani’s relaxed shoulders and quirked lips told him that she was as relieved as him.

At length, Dawad collected all his files and folders. Clutching them to his chest, he doddered over to the desk and seated himself snugly in his cushioned chair.

“This is all I have on him, I’m afraid,” he sighed, frowning at the stack of weathered documents in front of him. “Not sure how much use the official records will be to your investigation, though. Janak was fairly unremarkable, at least academically. He got decent marks, but certainly nothing to write home about. And it was the same with field training, as far as I remember.”

Simani nodded. “Vikram said as much. But Janak Nath was dismissed from the Hunter Corps ten years ago. I mean, when was the last time any of us heard about such a thing happening? Hunters are expensive to train; the Quarters are consistently understaffed. Hunters either retire or die on the job – they don’t get fired.”

Dawad clucked sympathetically. “Any luck with the records of his dismissal?”

“Vikram is looking into it, but he hasn’t had much luck. We were hoping to avoid initiating an official enquiry with the IAW. We’re running short of time. And you know how long these things can take.”

“Well, I don’t know why he was dismissed. There was a scandal regarding some prisoners… But it’s been so long, most of the people who were involved are either retired or dead.” His eyelids drooping, Dawad sank back into the cushions. “But I have a feeling his…unnatural fascination with the Aeriels might’ve had something to do with it. I know he made many at the IAW uncomfortable. The professors here at Bracken certainly were wary of him, and we’ve had our share of oddballs over the years. It wasn’t even that he stood out, really. There was just something off about how much he enjoyed it…”

“What?” Ruban leaned forward in his chair, elbows on the desk. “Enjoyed what, prof? If you know something–”

“Not the kind of thing you can prove in a court of law.” Dawad cut him off. “Just…a feeling, I suppose. He was an above-average student – intelligent, hard-working, personable. Nothing wrong with him, objectively. He was just – he was fascinated by Aeriels; their physiology, anatomical structure, that sort of thing.”

Simani raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have thought that was uncommon, for students here at Bracken.”

“It’s not. Janak was just…well, he was exceptional in some ways. For instance, he could accurately determine an Aeriel’s gender at first glance. It’s a rare ability. I’ve never had another student who was as good at it as him. He was fascinated by their appearance and anatomy. Spent hours in the lab studying Aeriel bodies...”

“A bit too academic for Bracken, I suppose. The Academy’s meant to train Hunters, not scientists,” Simani said. “But I don’t see why that’d be a problem. He could transfer to another college if he wanted to study–”

“That’s the thing.” Dawad sighed, his eyes fixed on the stack of dusty files on his desk. “Many felt that his interest in Aeriels wasn’t purely scientific in nature.”

Ruban frowned, a feeling of unease settling in his gut. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lips pressed into a thin line, Dawad began flipping through one of the files he’d just retrieved. “During their third year at Bracken, Janak and some of his friends were suspended for over a month.”

Simani’s eyes widened. “A month! What for? Did they kill someone?”

“They came close.” He handed her the file he’d been perusing, his gaze somber. “I had just begun teaching here at the time, so I wasn’t very involved with the administrative side of things. But Janak and his friends had apparently arranged some kind of a…costume party in their dorm. Most of the participants were drunk, and there were some allegations of substance abuse–”

“But that’s not why they were suspended, was it?” The color drained from Simani’s face as her eyes roved over the file in her hand. Ruban tried to read the old report over her shoulder, but the fraying paper was stained and the font too small for him to decipher the words.

“No,” Dawad said, his tone grim. “That wasn’t the reason why. Apparently, they’d convinced one of their juniors – a first-year – to dress up as an Aeriel for the costume party.”

“In bad taste, I suppose.” Ruban glanced from Dawad to Simani, baffled. “But I don’t think they were breaking any rules.”

“Not by organizing the party, no.” Simani’s voice was strained. “Although this report does say that the first-year was forced into the Aeriel costume by some of the older students. But that’s not why they were suspended.”

“No,” Dawad sighed. “The suspension was for the assault.”

“Assault?” The word scraped Ruban’s throat on the way out.

The professor nodded. “The freshman was found in one of the third year washrooms by his classmates the next morning. Apparently, they found him lying in a pool of his own blood, barely conscious, and his costume in tatters. Two of his fingers had been broken. His body was covered in lacerations and burn injuries. He had to be hospitalized for weeks, afterwards.”

“Was he – had he been–”

A spasm in Simani’s throat caught Ruban’s eye.

“Had he been sexually assaulted?” he asked Dawad, as much to spare Simani as for the sake of the investigation. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Yes.”

“And why were the seniors not expelled?” Simani demanded.

“The victim refused to press charges. In fact, he never returned to Bracken after being discharged from the hospital. And there wasn’t sufficient DNA evidence to identify the culprits, since half the third year class had been in and out of that dormitory that night. Over a hundred people had used the washroom where the boy was found the next morning.”

“And none of them said a thing?” There was a note of disbelief in Simani’s voice.

Dawad shook his head. “That’s why there was no official action, apart from the suspension. The Academy wasn’t eager to pursue legal proceedings, either. Especially not after the victim had left. The organizers of the party – including Janak Nath – were all suspended for about a month, and that was the end of that.

“Everyone had their own suspicions about what had really happened. By then, Janak already had a reputation for his eerie obsession with Aeriel anatomy and physiology. The fact that the boy had been forced into an Aeriel costume before the assault…” he shrugged. “But nobody – neither the students nor the faculty – wanted to put their own career on the line by pursuing the issue against the wishes of the Academy administration. There wasn’t much of an incentive to do so, since the boy had refused to press charges.”

“And after all that, those bastards were allowed to join the Hunter Corps,” Simani said through gritted teeth. “This is unbelievable.”

Dawad frowned, turning sharp green eyes on Ruban. “Well, I’m surprised you don’t know about this already. It was one of the reasons your uncle fought so hard to have Reivaa’s execution deferred.” He shook his head tiredly. “And we all know how that ended.”

“My uncle? As in Subhas?”

“Who else?”

“I don’t understand… What did Uncle Subhas have to do with Janak Nath?”

“Not much,” Dawad said, as Simani passed the file to Ruban. “They just worked together to apprehend Reivaa after her attack up north, near the Zainian border. I’m sure you remember; it was big news at the time. Over a hundred people died in what turned out to be one of the most destructive terror attacks of the century. A taskforce – comprising Hunters from both Vandram and Zaini – was put together to Hunt down the perpetrators. Your uncle was chosen to lead that taskforce–”

“I know all that, obviously,” Ruban grit out. “But what does that have to do with Janak Nath?”

“Nothing directly. Reivaa was accused of masterminding the attack and scheduled to be executed within days of her capture, on the basis of a confession obtained during interrogation. But Subhas fought tooth and nail to have the execution deferred­–”

“Yes, I know that. Reivaa escaped the day after she was to be executed, all because of that postponement. I don’t see how–”

“Janak had gained something of a reputation, while working with the Hunter Corps,” Dawad interjected calmly. “He was highly sought after…for his skills at interrogating captured Aeriels. He was especially well-known for his ability to extract confessions–”

“Oh God,” Simani murmured, her eyes widening.

“As you can imagine, the IAW didn’t have much of a problem with that.”

Ruban nodded, blinking back the headache that threatened to take root at his temples. “Aeriels are a flight risk, especially powerful ones like Reivaa. Keeping them in custody is expensive. Quick confessions mean quick executions.”

“Exactly!” Dawad nodded, his tone pensive. “Your uncle reached the same conclusion, the day after the execution order arrived. There was some confusion over the evidence. And Subhas – young and idealistic as he’d been, back in those days – came rushing to me for advice on how to stay the execution. He didn’t want somebody to be killed on the basis of a false confession, not even an Aeriel. And look where it got him, that idealism…”

Simani rose dazedly to her feet, clutching the desk for support. “If Janak could extract a confession – false or otherwise – from Reivaa all those years ago…”

“Back when there was no enhanced sif to help with the ‘interrogation’,” Ruban added.

Simani looked at him, her eyes haunted. “What can he do now?”

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